


please release me, let me go....

by Lrb89



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-11-24
Updated: 2015-11-24
Packaged: 2018-05-03 05:27:23
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 595
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5278442
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lrb89/pseuds/Lrb89
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This just popped into my head. May be a series not sure, let me know your thoughts and kindly review if you feel its got "legs" so to speak.....</p>
    </blockquote>





	please release me, let me go....

**Author's Note:**

> This just popped into my head. May be a series not sure, let me know your thoughts and kindly review if you feel its got "legs" so to speak.....

Packing up her double bedroom took less than 40 minutes she noted. Gowns and robes were packed away in a charmed duffle along with perfumes, jewellery and toiletries with no other personal posessions other than the ancient Crookshanks in his basket.  


She had been syphoning off her books and valued belongings over the last 8 months to the small cottage she had rented under the pseudonym "Mrs Smith".  
Small regular trips to deposit her most treasured posessions made for inconspicuous disppearances of her belongings from around the house. The larger items or more valued books were the trickiest to remove. Using an intricate mix of duplication transfiguration and a mild confundus charm, should Severus ever reach for said book, meant he would never touch her volumes, which were actually transfigured matchsticks. Such measures were necessary having a husband such as Severus Snape and were plans 2 years in the making. He was meticulous for detail and propriety, having her belongings disappearing on a regular basis would have let her punctilious husband know something was amiss with his posessions-Her.  


Giving herself mental kudos for efficiency, she shrank the duffle and placed it inside her camel overcoat before waving her wand about casting 'Finite Incatatum' and returning her bedroom back to its previous uncharmed state.  


Pastel walls changed into beige coloured peeling plaster, the White linens on the bed returned to rough spun woolen blankets upon a threadbare mattress and the bare floor boards replaced the oak laminate of Hermione's transfiguration. Wiping her presence from the room was an important ritual for her to complete, she wanted him to have nothing left of her. He deserved none.  
The sad little room made for a depressing sight, the late afternoon sun shone a morose haze through the window and did nothing to cheer up her old bedchamber. Hermione was thankful for never having to share a bedroom with him, he exerted his right to have lovers which excluded her from his room and unwittingly gave her a sanctuary for masterminding her escape. Woven secrecy charms into her bed had given her a place to hide any details of her coup, and as he came to her room for the biweekly copulation she wore a secret smile on her face as he rutted into her upon the bed that held the secrets of her liberation.  
Giving one final cast about the room she picked up Crookshanks and closed the door firmly behind her.  
Padding down the stairs quickly, Hermione floated Crooks infront of her. She quickly put on her new heeled Mary Jane's sat on the bottom stair and stood to adjust her coat for the blustery autumn weather outside. Waving a 'Finite' towards the study and living room saw the appearance of hundreds of matchstick's, scattered about the room in place of books, lamps, throws and furniture. The vast sound of hundreds of wooden sticks hitting the floor brought a smile of reprieve from her, Hermione closed her eyes and breathed a sigh of relief.  


Looking at her wrist watch she noticed her 53 minute window was very nearly up, anxiety and adrenaline pumped through Hermione and it made her fingers fumble as she gathered Crookshanks into her arms. She could feel the blood rush through her ears along with the butterflies in her stomach.

Hermione's heels clicked noisily on the slate tiles of the hallway sounding her retreat until reaching the oak door which she opened to the October afternoon, and without a backward glace she closed the door on the previous 6 years of her life.


End file.
